


just might see a ghost tonight

by finkpishnets



Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Youtubers, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Polyamorous Pack, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: Randall’s still not sure on theexactdetails, just flashes. Lilith kicking ass at beer pong. Jack running a hand through his hair as he leant close to hear what Randall was saying. Hamish pressed against him in a hallway, the novelty of having to look up into someone’s eyes.They’d woken up the next morningveryhungover andverynaked.“So,” Randall had asked, “do you guys believe in ghosts?”The rest, as they say, is history.[Or: The Knights are Youtube Ghosthunters. Supposedly. Mostly they're just in it for adrenaline and sex.]
Relationships: Alyssa Drake/Jack Morton, Lilith Bathory/Nicole Birch, Lilith Bathory/Randall Carpio/Hamish Duke/Jack Morton, Randall Carpio/Hamish Duke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 142





	just might see a ghost tonight

**Author's Note:**

> what do you mean you didn't need a ghosthunting youtuber knights au in your life?

**~**

“Okay,” Nicole says, handing them a printed itinerary even though she’s definitely already sent it to their phones at least three times. “Have fun. Try not to fall through any dilapidated floors.”

“That was _one time_ ,” Randall says, and Nicole just stares at him. “Okay, fine, like _five_. Let me live.”

Lilith snorts and presses a kiss to Nicole’s lips. The fact that Nicole was actually late to debrief suggests they said their real goodbyes already, which Randall is totally going to drag her about the minute they’re on the road.

“Love you,” Lilith says, shooting the rest of them the finger behind her back, and Nicole’s smile lights up her face.

“Love you, too. Be safe. Abandon the others if you have to.”

“Hey!” Randall, Jack, and Hamish say in sync. Nicole just blinks at them innocently from over Lilith’s head.

The car horn blaring makes them all jump.

“God, hurry _up_. If I don’t get coffee soon I’m gonna kill you all for the views!” Gabrielle shouts, and Randall offers the others a shrug. 

“Hey, I like her.”

“You like everyone,” Jack points out, and, well.

What can he say? He’s a people person.

**~**

They stop for coffee three times before Jack calls Gabrielle an addict and she throws his breakfast bagel out the window.

It’s pretty calm as far as road trips go.

**~**

If you asked each of them if they believed in ghosts you’d get vastly different answers. 

Randall’s a hard yes. Spirits? Tick. Demons? Tick. Aliens? Are you fucking kidding? _Absolutely_. 

Jack’s a big believer, too, though a little less enthusiastically. Childhood trauma’s a bitch. Still, he’s team Bump in the Night™ and therefore Team Randall.

Hamish believes _theoretically_. He likes to keep an open mind, and loves a good debate, but since he’s never actually _seen_ anything he’s more sceptical than Randall would like.

Nicole is the perfect balance of not believing but not ruling anything out, either. Which is super boring, but she’s a hell of a manager so Randall’s willing to let it slide.

Gabrielle doesn’t believe in a damn thing, and she’s just along to laugh every time the others get freaked out. Also she’s bossy as hell, which all in all makes her a fucking amazing director. 

Lilith’s just hoping she’ll get to punch a demon one day, she doesn’t give a shit about the rest of it.

Alyssa thinks they’re all morons and is in this solely for the paycheck and editing credits on her CV.

It makes for an interesting show anyway.

**~**

Today’s location is an abandoned mansion, covered in dying ivy and crumbling at the edges. There’s no other civilization for three miles, and they’d had to lie through their teeth about health and safety rules before they’d been given permission to shoot here.

The garden’s overgrown and none of the windows seem to have a full pane of glass left. 

The dark clouds overhead promise rain.

…Randall’s definitely gonna fall through a floorboard or two.

**~**

“We’ll get set up, film the opening segment while it’s still light, and then leave you losers to it,” Gabrielle says, pulling her coat tighter around her. Randall offers her a stick of gum and she glowers at him but takes it anyway. 

“You’re not staying?” Hamish asks from where he’s helping Amir and Brandon set up tripods. 

“God no,” Gabrielle says. “Ew. There’s no need for the rest of us to freeze in this death trap with you when there’s a perfectly serviceable B&B twenty minutes down the road. We’ll leave you the handhelds and set up for wide shots, and do the history run through tomorrow.”

Jack scoffs. “You know the point of a director is to, like, _direct_ right?”

Gabrielle’s smile is razor sharp. “And I will _definitely_ be thinking about that whilst I’m taking a hot shower, eating my weight in some granny’s home cooked food, and rewatching _How to Get Away With Murder_ for the tenth time.”

“You’re a little terrifying,” Randall says and wonders if she’ll let him hold her hand or if he’s just attracted to danger.

“Thank you,” Gabrielle says, patting him on the arm.

**~**

The behind the camera crew transfer all the essentials into one van, taking the other back into town and leaving them with a threat not to touch anything. Which is fine except Jack’s handheld’s blinking angrily at them and no one knows where the extra batteries are.

“I’ll check the van,” Randall says with a sigh, zipping his jacket up to the throat and tripping over his feet even with the torch from his phone.

“Any luck?” Hamish asks fifteen minutes later when Randall’s stepped on at least one thing he definitely shouldn’t’ve and left smudges on a lens he thinks _may_ be Brandon’s favorite, yikes.

“Nope,” he says. “Hey, do you think they move everything deliberately so we’re screwed without them?”

“Oh absolutely,” Hamish says, and eyes a precarious stack of hard-drives. 

“Huh,” Randall says, bumping his hip against a lighting stand. “Should we remind them they work for us?”

Hamish shrugs. “Best not to. I’m sure they have a _lot_ of blackmail material up their sleeves by now.”

“Well, shit,” Randall says. “Wanna give ‘em some more?”

Hamish’s smirk is one of Randall’s very favorite things in the world.

**~**

“It’s, like, eleven-thirty. How long does it take to find fucking _batteries?_ ” Lilith asks. She’s stolen Jack’s coat, and, yeah, his sleeping bag too by the looks of it. 

“Uh, _rude_. Here,” Randall says, throwing Jack the replacement. “You’re welcome.”

“Cool, thanks,” Jack says. “But also, fuck you, it’s been an hour.”

“That’s what I get for helping.” 

Jack narrows his eyes. “If that’s what you wanna call blowing Hamish in the back of the rental.” 

“ _Wow_ ,” Randall says. “I do _not_ see how the word doesn’t apply to both situations.”

“Okay,” Hamish says, clapping his hands. “We should grab a nap before we split up and film. This place is massive.”

**~**

They’d met at a party on campus, some frat that’s long since been put on probation trying to get their name on the map. 

It was pretty so-so as far as ragers go, but the dudes didn’t slack on the booze which was a major point in their favor. 

Randall’s still not sure on the _exact_ details, just flashes. Lilith kicking ass at beer pong. Jack running a hand through his hair as he leant close to hear what Randall was saying. Hamish pressed against him in a hallway, the novelty of having to look up into someone’s eyes.

They’d woken up the next morning _very_ hungover and _very_ naked. 

“So,” Randall had asked, “do you guys believe in ghosts?”

The rest, as they say, is history.

**~**

They wake up just before one a.m., a tangle of sleeping bags and limbs, and Randall takes a moment just to breathe.

He loves what they do, it’s ridiculous and scary and _awesome_. But this? Waking up in strange places, the sound of the wind and creaking pipes, and his favorite people in the world pressed close, the four of them against the world?

It’s _easily_ the best part of the job.

Well…you know. Besides the adrenaline peaked sex after. 

Obvs.

Lilith’s eyes flutter open, and she shoots him a soft smile. It’s the smile she only lets the people she’s claimed as _hers_ see, and Randall still feels privileged as hell to be on that list.

“Ugh,” she says, “you’re having soppy thoughts.”

“Always,” he says, and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, grinning when she laughs, rolling her eyes.

“Shhhh,” Jack says, reaching over Lilith to bat at Randall and ending up just curling his hand over Randall’s hip instead. “Sleep.”

“Not anymore,” Hamish says around a yawn, briefly laying his hand over Jack’s and squeezing, their fingers brushing against Randall’s bare skin where his hoodie’s ridden up. Randall catches Lilith’s eye.

“Okay,” she says around a groan. “Up and at ‘em. No sexy times until we’ve hunted some ghosts.”

“As the only person who hasn’t gotten laid in the last twenty-four hours, I object,” Jack says grumpily, and Lilith laughs.

“Suck it up, sunshine.” 

“We’ll make it up to you later,” Hamish says, patting Jack’s hand consolingly before levering himself to his feet. 

“You’d better,” Jack says, but it’s an empty complaint.

They always do.

**~**

Randall shotguns the second floor, making sure his helmet camera is working and pulling out the selfie stick for the Go-Pro. 

“‘Sup, guys. So, there’s about a million bedrooms in this place, but I’m looking for the family quarters. There’s a total du Maurier story, about the husband killing his first wife because she was, like, pretty badass? I dunno. Maybe she really _was_ a terrible person but, uh, a) benefit of the doubt, and b) don’t kill your wife? Duh.

Other local folk tales include a butler falling out the attic window, apparently pushed by an intruder, and an old couple who became total hermits, not letting anyone near the place until their bodies were found, like, a month after they passed.”

He checks each room as he goes, keeping up a running commentary and getting way more footage than they need, but Alyssa’s always telling them to give her choices, so.

His torch casts a dim light, and the shadows seem fragmented, the moon barely visible behind the rain. He can’t hear the others — the place is too big — and the silence sits over his shoulders until he feels goosebumps.

Yeah, okay, he’s an adrenaline junkie. Why the hell else would he do this?

“Hey, okay, so, this is the master suite. Geez, okay, this room is huge. A good dust and a coat of paint and this would be even nicer than Hamish’s place, and you _know_ how much I love that.”

He shoots the camera a significant look, and starts his investigation. 

Which, okay, it’s mostly just him peeking into corners and opening cupboard doors or whatever. He doesn’t talk to ‘ghosts’ much, not unless he’s sure there’s something there. That’s more Lilith’s domain, and, uh, that’s not so much talking as shouting.

There’s an amazing view across the lake from the smashed window, and okay, Randall’s pretty smitten. He can imagine what this place looked like in its heyday, and he really doesn’t get why someone hasn’t restored it by now.

Money, obvs. He wonders how long it has to go to ruin before they can demo and build condos.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, making him jump, and he rolls his eyes at himself.

“Okay buddies, Jack’s found something in the attic, let’s go.”

**~**

They’d started out with a few crappy video cameras borrowed from the school tech lab, claiming class credit as a way of talking their way into local places and watching ‘90s reality shows for reference.

It had just been a way to hang out and pass some time at first. Then Jack had brought them Alyssa, which was both good and bad. Good because she can edit shit in half the time of anyone else and Randall has no doubt she’s going to have some high flying job in Hollywood within the next three years, and bad because Jack and Alyssa are star-crossed lovers or whatever. So. _Drama_.

That calmed down after a couple of months when they realized that behaving like a CW show wasn’t pretty, and now they hook up on the reg in a mature and healthy way that Randall one hundred percent approves of.

So, yeah, after that everything took off.

Now the Knights of St. Christopher channel is just 30k shy of a million subs and they get actual-for-real _paid_ to travel the country and scare themselves silly.

Which is….honestly insane.

Randall loves his life.

**~**

“What’s up, dude?” he says, vaulting the last few steps into the attic to find Jack stood stock still.

Which is totally understandable because—

“Holy shit!”

“Cool,” Jack says, voice strained. “Awesome. Okay. Great. You can see it too. I was worried it was just me.”

“Worried _what_ was just you?” Lilith asks, leaning on the wall to catch her breath. She’s clearly sprinted from the basement which means Hamish is just being lazy. “Oh, _fuck_.”

“Yep,” Jack saws, popping the p. Randall puts a hand on his shoulder and hopes it’s comforting because, geez—

—That is absolutely _not a living person_.

“What do we do?” Lilith asks, which is a valid question because this has never happened to them before.

And then the ghost-spirit- _whatever_ turns to look at them with its crushed-in skull and flickering form and it’s like it can _see_ them, which—

“Run!” Randall says.

No one needs to be told twice.

**~**

They crash into Hamish on the second floor landing.

Literally.

It’s only Jack’s grip on the back of Randall’s coat that stops them tumbling down the stairs and breaking their necks.

“You guys look like you’ve seen a—” Hamish starts and Lilith shushes him, pushing at his shoulder until he’s running too. “Wait, _did you?_ ”

“Yep, uh-uh, we did,” Jack says, and his voice is still shaking a little but he’s not totally hysterical which is a bonus.

“Unless someone’s playing a very elaborate joke, which I wouldn’t _totally_ put past Gabrielle, that was one hundred percent a verified freaking spirit,” Randall says, putting his hands on his knees and taking a deep breath.

“It’s not following,” Lilith says, when they reach the entrance hall. “I don’t think it _can_.”

“Well thank fuck for small mercies,” Jack says, and Randall wraps his arms around him. Jack melts into it, clenching his fingers in Randall’s coat and burying his face in his neck, breathing unsteadily.

“Is it bad timing to say I’m pissed I didn’t get a look?” Hamish asks, and Lilith punches him in the arm.

“What, you need a stairlift for next time, old man?”

“Not to be _that guy_ ,” Randall says, “but, uh, did we get enough footage or do we have to go back out there?”

“Alyssa’s a genius, she can work it out,” Lilith says, “Besides. We saw a _fucking ghost_. I don’t think anyone’s gonna care.”

“Valid,” Randall says, and runs his fingers through Jack’s hair.

“There’s not enough room in the van for all of us,” Hamish says, putting on his Serious Adult™ voice that no one really buys except the students he used to TA for and the three of them in very specific circumstances. Like, for instance, when they’re freaking out because they _saw a ghost_. “So we’re going to have to camp out in here.”

Lilith just shrugs. “I brought cards,” she says.

And, well.

Strip poker _is_ a great restorative.

**~**

“Wake up!” Gabrielle says, kicking Randall’s ankle. 

“God! Fine!” he says, removing his face from where he’s apparently fallen asleep in Lilith’s armpit. “Why is it so _cold?_ ”

“Because,” Gabrielle says, throwing his coat at him, “you’re _naked_ , dumbass.”

“Ohhh,” Randall says. “Yeah. Okay. That makes sense.”

Gabrielle sighs like they’re the cause of everything wrong in her life. “Nothing about the four of you _ever_ makes sense. Get presentable and get in front of the camera so we can get out of here. I have a nail appointment at four.”

“Hey,” Randall says, “remember how we technically pay _you_ …”

Gabrielle’s glare is a thing of beauty. “Move!”

“Aye, aye,” he says, and wraps himself around Jack like an octopus until Jack wakes up spluttering.

“Wha—?” 

“Time to rock and roll,” Randall says, and Jack sighs and lets himself be manhandled for thirty seconds before he bucks Randall off.

“Oh shit,” Lilith says, waking with a jolt. “Ghost!”

Randall’s eyes widen. “ _Ghost_.”

Fucking jackpot.

**~**

**Alyssa:** No idea what you’re talking about. Normal footage and then J staring at a wall for ten minutes. R and L run to find him then almost kill H on stairs.

 **Alyssa:** No ghosts.

 **Alyssa:** Were you guys drinking?

 **Randall:** fuck.

**~**

Of _course_ it doesn’t show up on camera. 

That would be _way_ too easy. And also, like, probably explains why no one’s ever caught undeniable proof. 

Son of a—

**~**

“Okay, so we saw a ghost and no one will ever believe us. Alyssa will edit the footage to look like any other episode where we creep ourselves out, and the internet will be none the wiser,” Jack says after Alyssa’s hung up. 

The rest of the morning had gone normally, and they’d arrived home early so Gabrielle didn’t have to follow through on her threats to leave them on the side of the road. Jack had run the cards over to Alyssa ASAP, giving her strict instructions on where to start, but no dice.

There’s still their post investigation interviews to film, but they’re gonna need to brainstorm on how much, if anything, they say. Probably just that Jack thought he saw something. They freaked. Blah, blah, blah.

Way too anticlimactic.

“Sorry guys,” Hamish says. Randall’s pretty sure he believes them which is a bonus at least. “We should get some rest.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “We should. _After_ sex though, right?”

Hamish frowns. “Obviously.”

“Always a silver lining,” Randall says and takes off his shirt.

**~**

**Randall:** really? nothing?

 **Alyssa:** Nada.

 **Alyssa:** Don’t know why you’re so worried though. It’s not like anyone watches for the ghosts.

 **Alyssa:** They’re just waiting for when I slip and leave in unedited footage.

 **Alyssa:** Ghosthunting < Knights Sex Tape.

 **Alyssa:** You guys really need to learn where the cameras are.

 **Randall:** oh we know ;)

 **Alyssa:** I’m sighing loudly. Remind Jack we have river rafting at eight.

 **Randall:** *thumbs up emoji*

**~**

Lilith’s alarm goes off at seven, and Randall’s half awake as she climbs out of bed to shower before she meets Nicole for their usual Sunday morning date in town.

“River rafting,” he slurs, remembering, and nudges Jack until he blearily falls off the mattress, reaching for his pants.

“See you guys tonight?” Jack says five minutes later around his toothbrush, and Randall waves a hand in agreement. 

It’s a stupid question anyway. They’re far too co-dependant to go that long without each other’s company.

Randall dozes for ten more minutes after the others leave and then swings his legs over the side of the bed, thinking about the gym and the grocery list of chores he has to get through, as well as mediating their social media which is _technically_ Nicole’s job but he’s pretty sure he’s funnier, _so_ …

“Nope,” Hamish says, reaching for his arm and pulling him back down. “Stay. I’ll make pancakes and we can watch _Catfish_ re-runs all morning.”

Randall grins, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Hamish’s jaw and tangling their legs together. “If you insist.”

Hamish very much does.

Randall’s super okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, come talk to me about these disasters [on tumblr](https://madroxed.tumblr.com/) anytime. and if you liked this, i'm super happy to write more in this verse.


End file.
